THE  KNEELING  CAMEL 

And  Other  Poems 
By 

ANNA    TEMPLE 


;-NRLF 


B    3    315 


THE 
KNEELING     CAMEL 

and  Other  Poems 


By 

Anna  Temple 


NEW  YORK 
MOFFAT,  YARD  &  COMPANY 

1920 


COPYRIGHT,  1920,  BY 
MOFFAT,  YARD  &  COMPANY 


fcs 

iw*        I** 

DEDICATION 

I  would  this  little  book  of  verse  might  be 
My  stained-glass  window,  given  in  memory 

Of  my  beloved,  who  are  gone — not  dead — 

But  simply  into  higher  pastures  led. 
And  should  one  look  to  see 
What  manner  of  design  my  glass  may  be, 

Let  it  be  said 

The  white-robed  saints  are  here — oft  vexed  and  tried- 
And  the  Good  Shepherd  standing  at  their  side. 


Acknowledgment  and  thanks  are  due  to  the  editors 
of  the  following  papers  for  their  kindly  permission 
to  re-print  these  poems.  The  New  York  Observer  and 
The  Evangelist — now  combined  in  The  Christian  Work; 
Faith  and  Works,  a  small  paper  published  formerly  in 
the  interest  of  the  Philadelphia  Y.  W.  C.  A.;  Lights 
and  Shadows,  published  formerly  in  the  interests  of 
the  Philadelphia  Home  for  Incurables;  The  Youth's 
Companion;  Wide  Awake;  The  Outlook;  The  Pilgrim 
Visitor;  The  Advocate  and  Guardian,  published  in  the 
interests  of  The  Home  for  the  Friendless,  New  York; 
and  The  Sunday  School  Times,  my  long-time  friend 

A.  T. 


M191915 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

THE  KNEELING  CAMEL 

BROKEN  THINGS • 

FAITH'S  SONG 

"As  AN  EAGLE" 6 

MY  RIGHT-HAND  LOAD 

His  WILL 9 

ON  His  HANDS 11 

DUTY * 

THY  GIVEN  TASK     .      .      .      .      .      .      ...  14 

Two  FACES '  •'.  15 

GOD'S  PROMISES 16 

MY  MASTER'S  ORDER 17 

"ETERNAL,  UNCHANGEABLE" 18 

IN  SORROW'S  HOUR 19 

THE  MAKING  OF  THE  FLUTE 20 

AN  EVENING  REVERY 22 

THE  CHIMES 23 

UNUSED  POWER 25 

WHAT  GOD  FORGETS 26 

COMING  HOME 27 

"!N  JEOPARDY" 28 

THE  BETTER  SONG 29 

"UNTIL  HE  FIND" 30 

I  NEVER  KNEW 31 

THE  SEA'S  LAMENT 32 

A  PARABLE 34 

THE  CHILDREN'S  FORTRESS 35 

ix 


x  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

A  SNOW  LEGEND 36 

OH,  OH,  To  BE  A  BUTTERFLY 38 

How  THE  PINES  GROW 39 

A  WINTER'S  THOUGHT 41 

A  LEGEND  OF  THE  EVERGREENS 4£ 

MAY'S  LEGACY 44 

CHRISTMAS  HYMN 46 

A  CHRISTMAS  CAROL 48 

DIDST  THOU  CONSIDER? 50 

THE  DIVINE  MAN 51 

AT  His  GATES 52 

GRIEF  CONQUERED 54 

A  MONDAY  PRAYER 55 

HAST  THOU  A  SORROW? 56 

THAT  MIDNIGHT  FRIEND 57 

THE  TIDE .,.-...  59 

THE  BANNER-BEARER 60 

IF  I  SHOULD  WRITE 61 

THE  PLACE  PREPARED 63 

MY  GARDEN  MUST  BE  BEAUTIFUL    ....  64 

THE  SEARCHER 65 

ACHIEVEMENT  66 


THE  KNEELING  CAMEL 
AND  OTHER  POEMS 


The  Kneeling  Camel. 

The  camel  at  the  close  of  day 
Kneels  down  upon  the  sandy  plain 

To  have  his  burden  lifted  off, 
And  rest  to  gain. 

My  soul,  thou  too  shouldst  to  thy  knees 
When  daylight  draweth  to  a  close, 

And  let  thy  Master  lift  thy  load, 
And  grant  repose. 

Else  how  canst  thou  tomorrow  meet, 
With  all  tomorrow's  work  to  do, 

If  thou  thy  burden  all  the  night 
Dost  carry  through? 

The  camel  kneels  at  break  of  day 
To  have  his  guide  replace  his  load; 

Then  rises  up  anew  to  take 
The  desert  road. 


So  thou  shouldst  kneel  at  morning's  dawn, 
That  God  may  give  the  daily  care; 

Assured  that  He  no  load  too  great 
Will  make  thee  bear. 


f2] 


Broken  Things. 

But  broken  pitchers  bearing  light, 
Yet  Gideon's  host  triumphant  sang; 

And  through  the  stillness  of  the  camp 
Their  shouts  of  victory  rang. 

A  shipwreck,  and  but  broken  spars 
All  tossed  upon  an  angry  main; 

Yet  one  of  them  enabled  Paul 
Melita's  coast  to  gain. 

A  broken  Body  on  a  cross, 

A  wound,  whence  blood  and  water  flow; 
And  every  fettered  child  of  sin 

Might  full  deliv'rance  know. 

And  in  that  feast  of  memory 

The  broken  bread,  the  poured-out  wine, 
In  silent  manner  speak  to  us 

About  the  love  divine. 
[3] 


How  dear  to  God  are  broken  things, 
What  power  in  His  hand  they  gain; 

Then  trust  Him  with  your  broken  hopes, 
And  bodies  racked  with  pain. 


[4] 


Faith's  Song. 

Thus  come  our  doubts,  like  some  great  bank 

at  sea 

Of  fog  through  which  we  cannot  penetrate, 
Nor  see  the  dangers  that  around  us  wait; 

'Tis  then  that  Faith  must  sing,  "He  leadeth 


me." 


And  she  has  sung  it;  loud,  and  full,  and  clear 
Her  voice  went  outwards  o'er  the  billow's 

foam; 
And  those  upon  the  vessel  bound  for  home 

Rejoiced  to  hear  her  sing  "Our  God  is  near." 

O  Faith,  stay  by  me  till  I  reach  the  shore, 
Till  in  the  realms  of  day  this  darksome  night 
Shall  be  a  thing  that's  past,  and  faith  be 

sight; 

Till  I  shall  need  thy  guiding  hand  no  more. 

[5] 


"As  An  Eagle." 

The  eagle,  o'er  her  young  presiding, 

Stirs  up  their  quiet  rest; 
Breaks  in  upon  their  sure  confiding 

Within  their  rock-built  nest; 
And  taking  them  upon  her  wings, 
She  bears  aloft  those  vexed  things. 

One  moment  on  her  pinions  keeping 

The  eaglets  weak  and  small; 
The  next,  she  turns,  and  downward  sweeping 

Though  helpless  leaves  them  all 
To  battle,  and  to  try  their  wings, 
And  make  themselves  not  helpless  things. 

'She  leaves  them,  but  she  still  is  eyeing 
Their  progress,  weak  and  slow; 

And  when  one  falters  in  its  flying, 
The  mother-bird  doth  know; 
[6] 


And  quickly  on  her  outstretched  wings 
She  takes  again  those  tired  things. 

O  soul,  the  Lord  thy  faith  is  trying 
When  He  stirs  up  thy  rest; 

And  He  would  ever  have  thee  flying 
Toward  what  is  good  and  best: 

If  thou  shouldst  falter  His  strong  wing 

Is  underneath  thee,  faithless  thing. 

(Deut,  32:11,  12) 


My  Right-Hand  Load. 

In  my  right  hand  I  clasp  tomorrow's  grief, 

And  in  my  left  is  held  the  present  woe; 
No  other  hand  have  I  wherewith  to  grasp 

The  needed  strength,  and  wearily  I  go 
Weighed  down  by  these  two  loads,  and  aching 
sore, 

And  sore  dismayed  because  no  help  I  see; 
And  sore  perplexed,  because  my  greater  load 

Doth  make  me  lean  and  walk  unevenly. 

I  lean  toward  my  right — tomorrow's  load 

Is  so  much  greater  than  the  present  grief; 
But  lo,  at  last  for  my  right  hand  I  find 

A  wondrous  strength,  a  marvelous  relief. 
God  takes  this  right-hand  load,  I  need  not  hold 

Tomorrow's  woe,  and  now  my  hand  is  free 
To  grasp  the  strength  I  need  so  much  today,— 

I  grasp  it,  Jesus,  when  I  cling  to  Thee. 

(Isaiah  41:13) 

[8] 


His  Will. 

How  shall  I  know  His  will  concerning  me? 

Shall  I  look  forward  to  some  future  lot 
And  count  the  coming  days 

(Which  may  be  not), 
As  though  some  love  should  fill 
Those  days  with  revelations  of  His  will? 

How  shall  I  know  His  will  concerning  me? 

Shall  I  look  backward  to  the  distant  years, 
And  try  to  understand, 

Through  blinding  tears, 
With  what  those  days  were  filled? 
'Twould  be  to  know  I  hindered  all  He  willed. 

How  shall  I  know  His  will  concerning  me? 

I  will  look  steadfastly  at  present  days ; 
If  grieving  I  will  trust, 

[9] 


If  joyous  praise: 
Each  day  I  know  He  fills 
With  work  for  Him:  what  is  is  what  He 
wills. 


[10] 


On  His  Hands. 

Two  marks  are  graven  on  His  hands 
Which  time  shall  ne'er  efface ; 

One  is  myself,  my  sinful  self, 
And  one  the  sign  of  grace. 

The  nail-marks  still  are  on  His  hands, 
The  marks  of  Calv'ry's  tree; 

It  was  my  sin  that  put  them  there, 
It  was  my  sin — and  me. 

My  name  is  written  on  His  hands, 
My  name — who  put  it  there 

Along  with  that  dark  signature 
That  I  have  made  Him  wear? 

He  wrote  my  name  upon  His  hands, 

And  thus  the  seal  was  set 
To  all  that  covenant  of  love 

Which  neither  can  forget. 

en] 


I  fix  my  gaze  upon  His  hands, 

And  think  of  Calvary; 
He  sees  what  He  has  written  there, 

And  then  remembers  me. 

(Isaiah  49:1 6) 


[12] 


Duty. 

I  held  a  flower  in  my  hand; 

'Twas  night,  I  could  not  see ; 
And  judging  from  the  perfume  thought 

The  flower  must  ugly  be. 

But  when  the  morning  came  and  light 

/ 
With  its  transforming  power, 

I  did  forget  all  else  beside 
The  beauty  of  the  flower. 

God  placed  a  duty  in  my  hand : 

Before  mine  eyes  could  see 
Its  rightful  form  that  duty  seemed 

A  bitter  thing  to  me. 
The  Sun  of  Glory  rose  and  shone; 

Then  duty  I  forgot, 
And  knew  with  what  a  privilege 

The  Lord  had  blessed  my  lot. 
[13] 


Thy  Given  Task. 

The  present  moment  is  divinely  sent, 

The  present  duty  is  Thy  Master's  will; 
Oh,  thou  who  longest  for  some  noble  work, 

Do  thou  this  hour  thy  given  task  fulfil; 
And  thou  shalt  find,  though  small  at  first  it 

seemed, 

It   is   the   work   of   which    thou   oft   hast 
dreamed. 

Oh,  think  not,  if  thou  art  not  called  to  work 
In  mission  fields  of  some  far-distant  clime, 

That  thine  is  no  grand  mission.    Every  deed 
That  comes  to  thee  in  God's  allotted  time 

Is  just  the  greatest  deed  that  thine  could  be, 
Since  God's  high  will  appointed  it  for 
thee. 

[14] 


Two  Faces. 

I  saw  two  faces;  both  were  crowned 

With  whitened  hair; 
And  one  unpleasing  was  to  see, 

And  one  was  fair. 

I  questioned  Wisdom  of  the  cause, 

And  she  replied: 
That  sin  within  one  heart  had  lived, 

In  one  had  died. 


[15] 


God's  Promises. 

As  some  dear  friend,  who  knew  thy  straitened 
case, 

By  letter  or  by  hand  should  send  to  thee 
A  gift  for  that  amount  that  met  thy  need, 

And  raised  thee  out  of  want  and  poverty; 
So  God  has  sent  thee  gracious  promises, 

Which  thou  before  His  throne  in  faith  canst 

plead 
When  pressed  by  any  ill  or  sore  distress, 

And  find  sufficient  for  thine  utmost  need. 

Oh,  foolish  wert  thou,  then,  through  any  doubt 
To  linger  still  in  want  and  poverty, 

When  but  to  claim  some  promise  as  thine  own 
Would  bring  such  boundless  wealth  and  joy 
to  thee. 

[16] 


My  Master's  Order. 

"Go  work  and  pray" ; 
That  was  His  order  yesterday; 
And  should  I  dare  to  disobey? 

Now  His  command 
Is  wholly  changed ;  He  bids  me  stand 
Aside,  and  watch  His  working  hand. 

Today  His  will 

Is  spoken  in  these  words,  "Lie  still" ; 
And  shall  I  not  His  wish  fulfil? 

"Lie  still — and  pray"; 

i 

That  is  my  Lord's  command  today: 
And  I  will  do  His  work  His  way. 


[17] 


"Eternal,  Unchangeable." 

God  liveth, 

All  is  well; 
God  dieth  never. 
Then  over  death  and  hell 
I  triumph  ever. 

God  seeth 
Night  and  day ; 
God  sleepeth  never. 
Then  all  my  pilgrim  way 
God  watcheth  ever. 

God  loveth. 

I  can  prove 
God  loveth  ever. 
Then  nothing  from  His  love 
My  soul  shall  sever. 

[18] 


In  Sorrow's  Hour. 

Men  faithless  slept 
When  Jesus  wept 

In  agony. 
And  let  His  cry 
Unheard  go  by 

In  His  Gethsemane. 

But  when  men  weep 
God  does  not  sleep ; 

He  stoops  to  see 
Each  falling  tear, 
Each  sigh  to  hear 

In  their  Gethsemane. 


[19] 


The  Making  of  the  Flute. 

A  branch  lay  broken  on  the  grass 

While  winds  played  o'er  it  and  around; 

And  birds  sang  sweetly  in  the  trees, 
And  crickets  chirped  upon  the  ground : 

All  voiceles  lay  the  dying  wood 
Though  bathed  in  sound. 

But  one  drew  near  who  saw  it  lie, 
Storm-stricken  from  the  parent  tree; 

With  fibres  torn  and  edges  rough, 
And  leaves  all  hanging  listlessly; 

He  lifted  it,  exclaiming — "This 
My  flute  shall  be." 

Then  down  he  sat  beneath  the  trees, 
And    trimmed    with    knife    the    edges 
rough ; 

[20] 


And  marked   and  measured   width  and 
length, 

The  straggling  fibres  cutting  off: 
Until  his  eye  in  wisdom  saw 

It  was  enough. 

And  all  day  long  he  pierced  and  cut, 
And  polished  while  the  hot  sun  shone; 

But  when  it  sank  beneath  the  hills, 
And  all  his  work  at  last  was  done, 

He  breathed  an  air  through  his  new  flute 
Of  sweetest  tone. 

Like  silent  wood,  O  tuneless  soul, 
O  fallen,  helpless,  voiceless  thing, 

You  need  the  artist  touch  of  One 
Who  sweetest  melody  can  bring 

From  tuneless  souls,  although  He  pierce 
To  make  you  sing. 


[21] 


An  Evening  Revery. 

Bare  twigs,  brown  earth,  and  far  off  pink- 
tinged  sky, 

And  faintest  blue,  of  evening's  shaded  dye,— 
Oh,  what  a  picture  for  an  artist's  eye. 

The  leafless  twigs  point  heavenward,  and 

they 

Do  seem  to  touch  the  glow  of  closing  day,— 
What  a  fine  subject  for  a  poet's  lay. 

The  dead,  brown  earth  is  bathed  in  sunset's 

glow, 

As  grace  doth  cover  human  sin  and  woe, — 
What  a  great  truth  for  every  man  to  know. 


[22] 


The  Chimes. 

The  quarter  hour  chimes,  like  some  young  life 
Whose  tender  melody 
Has  just  begun; 
Not  till  the  hour  is  done 
Can  we  know  fully  what  the  tune  shall  be. 

The    half-hour    sounds,    an    added    chord   is 

played; 

Yet  the  melodious  tone, 
Though  rich  and  sweet, 
Is  still  all  incomplete, — 
Like  infancy  when  but  to  boyhood  grown. 

Three  chimes  play  next,  the  time  is  wearing  on, 
The  tune  is  much  more  clear: 
I  now  can  see 

What  the  last  note  shall  be, 
As  manhood  ripe  in  goodness  doth  appear. 
[23] 


Four  chimes,  the  tune  is  done.     Soft,  sweet, 

and  low 

Sounds  forth  the  final  chord. 
I  think  I  see 
An  old  man  patiently 
Await  the  coming  summons  of  his  Lord. 

The  hour  strikes;  to  an  eternal  rest 
The  summons  comes  at  last. 

And  every  chime 

Has  sounded  in  its  time, 
And  age  itself  f orevermore  is  past. 


[24] 


Unused  Power. 

When  Christ  to  His  disciples  gave  the  power 
To  heal  the  sick,  and  cleanse  all  leprous  men, 
And  bring  the  dead  once  more  to  life  again, 

And  cast  the  devils  forth,  that  very  hour 

Was  Judas  with  them;  unto  him  was  given 
As  well  as  unto  Peter  or  to  John, 
That  grace  which  should  its  victories  have 
won 

In  every  time  of  need,  through  help  of  heaven. 

How  came  it,  then,  that  he  to  whom   such 

strength 

Was  granted  that  he  surely  might  have  cast 
The  devil  from  himself,  was  led  at  last 

To  follow  Satan  to  so  great  a  length? 

It  must  be  that  in  dark  temptation's  hour 

He  simply  left  unused  God-given  power. 

(Matt.  10:1-5) 

[25] 


What  God  Forgets. 

In  ignorance  I  thought, 

In  silly  fear,  and  foolishness,  and  dread, — 
"God  doth  remember  all  the  sins  I  wrought, 
And  doth  forget  how  needy  is  my  lot." 
But  lo,  instead, 
When  I  His  message  read 
I  found  it  was  my  need  on  which  He  thought, 
My  sins  that  He,  because  of  Christ,  forgot. 


[26] 


Coming  Home. 

My  ship  is  coming  home;  beside  the  breakers 

That  roll  incessantly, 
I  catch  the  flutter  in  the  evening  twilight 

Of  sails  across  the  sea. 

And  as  I  watch  them  drawing  near  and  nearer, 
With  onward  course  and  straight, 

I  wonder  if  the  angels  with  such  pleasure 
For  souls  immortal  wait. 

Oh,  do  they  stand  there  at  the  port  of  heaven 

In  high  expectancy, 
Ready  to  hail  each  home-returning  vessel 

That  comes  across  life's  sea? 

What   pleasure,   then,   in   sunset's   glow  and 

beauty 

With  drooping  sails  to  come, 
And  hear  those  angels  singing  in  the  harbor 
"Welcome,  oh,  welcome  home." 
[27] 


"In  Jeopardy." 

Through  all  the  storm  that  swept  the  sky, 

And  lashed  the  fretted  sea, 
And  caused  the  little  ship  to  ride 

"In  jeopardy," 
The  Master  slept;  nor  roar  of  winds, 

Nor  anger  of  the  deep, 
Nor  rocking  of  the  boat  disturbed 

His  peaceful  sleep. 

But  when  in  terror  and  distress 

His  children  to  Him  came, 
And  in  their  trouble  called  for  help 

Upon  His  name, 
He  woke  whom  storms  had  wakened  not; 

Above  the  raging  sea 
He  heard  the  voice  of  them  that  cried 
"In  jeopardy." 

(Luke  8:22-24) 

[28] 


The  Better  Song. 

0  angels,  sing  your  glorious  songs  of  praise, 
Ye  spirits  blessed,  with  never  taint  of  sin; 

1  cannot  voice  the  anthems  that  ye  raise ; 

My  lips  are  dumb,  for  when  I  would  begin 
To  whisper  forth  some  worthy  melody, 
I  falter,  thinking  of  the  sin  in  me. 

O  angels,  silence;  cease  your  rapturous  song! 

Ye  cannot  sing  as  now  my  soul  can  sing. 
Your  lips  must  falter,  dumb  must  be  your 

tongue, 

When  at  the  footstool  of  our  glorious  King 
My  ransomed  soul  doth  tell  of  sins  forgiven, 
And  makes  her  song  of  praise  fill  earth  and 
heaven. 


[29] 


"Until  He  Find." 

O  tender  shepherd,  climbing  rugged  moun 
tains, 

And  wading  waters  deep, 
How  long  wouldst  thou  be  willing  to  go  home 
less 
To  find  a  straying  sheep? 

"I  count  no  time,"  the  shepherd  gently  an 
swered, 

"As  thou  dost  count  and  bind 
The  days  in  weeks,  the  weeks  in  months;  my 

counting 
Is  just — until  I  find. 

"And  that  would  be  the  limit  of  my  journey. 

I'd  cross  the  waters  deep, 
And  climb  the  hillsides  with  unfailing  patience, 

Until  I  found  my  sheep." 

(Luke  15:  4) 

[30] 


I  Never  Knew. 

I  never  knew  how  very  far  from  home 
My  wandering  feet  had  strayed, 
Until  I  saw 

The  wounds  my  Shepherd  bore, — 
Wounds  which  His  thorny  search  for 
me  had  made. 

I  never  knew  within  that  sheltered  home 
How  good  it  was  to  be, 
Till,  tired  out 

With  wandering  and  doubt, 
Back  to  His  fold  my  Shepherd  carried 
me. 


[31] 


The  Sea's  Lament. 

"Why  mournest  thou  all  day,  thou  mighty 

deep?" 

I  said  inquiringly. 

The  waves  drew  back  in  wonder  and  sur 
prise, 

In  sheer  amazement  did  they  fall  and  rise, 
To  think  that  such  as  I 
Should  dare  to  ask  the  sorrow  of  the  sea. 

And  so  I  stood  alone  upon  the  beach 

With  question  unreplied. 
Until  it  seemed  in  friendliness  for  me 
Those  waves  came  forth  again  from  out  the 

sea; 

And  rolling  slowly  in, 
Crept  as  repentant  to  my  very  side. 
[32] 


And  there  they  breathed  their  sorrow  to  mine 

ear 

Upon  that  lonely  shore : 
They  told  me  how  their  billows  were  to  be 
As  things  forgotten  in  eternity, — 

While  I  should  ever  live, 
That  great  and  restless  deep  should  be  "no 


more." 


[33] 


A  Parable. 

Within  the  palace  of  a  king 

A  royal  feast  was  spread, 
And  duke  and  lord  sat  round  the  board, 

The  sovereign  at  its  head; 
And  sumptuous  fare  was  lavished  there, 

Choice  wine  and  whitest  bread. 

How  came  the  wine  so  choice  and  pure, 
How  came  the  bread  so  white? 

How  came  they  there  a  royal  fare 
For  king  and  lord  and  knight? 

Because  the  hand  that  tilled  the  land 
His  work  had  done  aright. 

'Tis  small  things  need  the  greatest  care 

The  little  seed  we  sow, 
The  young  vines  small  need  watching  all, 

That  they  may  hardy  grow; 
That  wine  and  bread  on  tables  spread 

Perfected  work  may  show. 
[34] 


The  Children's  Fortress. 

The  tide  has  turned,  the  tide  is  coming  in, 
The  children's  fortress  down  upon  the  beach 

Must  be  abandoned  when  the  crested  waves 
Its  sandy  walls  shall  reach. 

All  morning  long  they  romped  in  ecstasy; 

O  cruel  waves,  the  children's  play  to  spoil ; 
O  faithful  waves,  that  warn  us  not  to  build 

Where  tides  may  mock  our  toil. 


[35] 


A  Snow  Legend. 

O  ye  clouds,  that  float  above  me, 

0  ye  winds,  that  round  me  blow, 
Can  ye  tell  me  from  what  quarter 

Comes  the  driving  snow? 

"From  the  north,  inquiring  maiden, 
Where  an  old  man,  stooping  low 
By  his  grate,  mourns  o'er  the  ashes," 
Said  the  winds  that  blow. 

"For  the  snow-flakes  are  the  ashes 
Of  the  summer's  glow. 

"See  him  as  he  stoops  and  shivers, 
Rubs  his  wrinkled  hands  and  sigh* 

'Just  one  ember  left  a-glowing, 
And  that  ember  dies ; 

Come  back,  summer,  come  and  warm  me ; 

1  am  cold,'  he  cries. 

[36] 


"Then  he  catches  up  the  bellows, 
Tries  to  make  the  embers  glow; 

Only  sets  the  ashes  whirling, 
Dancing  high  and  low: 

And  the  ashes  of  the  summer 
Are  the  flakes  of  snow." 


[37] 


Oh,  Oh,  To  Be  a  Butterfly. 

"Oh,  oh,  to  be  a  butterfly," 

I  hear  you  sigh, 

And  I  reply 
You  would  not  sing 
Of  such  a  thing 
If  you  were  always  on  the  wing. 

Sometimes  to  be  a  butterfly 

And  soar  on  high 

I'll  not  deny 
Is  very  good, 
When  field  and  wood 
Are  bright  with  flowers  that  offer  food. 

But  oh,  to  be  a  butterfly 

When  storms  are  nigh, 

And  flowers  die! 
Then  I  would  be 
A  maid  like  thee, 

With  some  dear  home  to  shelter  me. 
[38] 


How  the  Pines  Grow. 

For  many  and  many  a  day 
The  pines  heard  the  strong  wind  sighing, 
Moaning  and  crying — 
"Over  the  hills  and  away 

Is  a  place  I  am  knowing 

Where  nothing  is  growing." 

No  grass?"  cried  the  pines  in  distress, 
"No  grand  forest  trees?" 
"None  of  these," 
Sobbed  the  wind;  "barrenness 
Rules  the  place  I  am  knowing, 
For  nothing  is  growing." 

'Take  our  seed,"  said  the  pines  in  dismay, 
"Quick,  let  them  be  planted 
Where  most  they  are  wanted— 
Over  the  hills  and  away 
[39] 


In  that  land  thou  art  knowing 
Where  nothing  is  growing." 

Then  fast  went  the  seed-ladened  breeze 

To  that  desolate  land, 

And  there  in  the  sand 
It  planted  the  gift  of  the  trees. 

And  now  for  that  sowing 

Sweet  pine  groves  are  growing. 


[40] 


A  Winter's  Thought. 

This  snow  imprisons  me ;  my  foolish  feet 

Refuse  to  wander  on  these  slippery  ways, 

And  I  am  prone  to  sigh  for  summer  days: 

But  when  I  hear  the  children  on  our  street 

Shouting  with  laughter  in  their  winter's 

glee, 

My  soul  is  glad  that  not  alone  for  me 
Were  all  things  made,  else  might  the  chil 
dren  lose 

Half  their  year's  joy  if  it  were  mine  to 
choose. 


[41] 


A  Legend  of  the  Evergreens. 

The  fir  and  the  spruce  and  the  pine 
And  the  wind  held  speech  together; 

And  they  talked  of  the  loss  that  would  come 

to  man 
With  the  coming  of  winter  weather: 

And  the  wind  bemoaned  that  the  forest  trees 

Were  giving  their  robes  to  each  beggar  breeze. 

"It  will  never  do,"  said  the  pine, 

And  the  fir  repeated  "never." 
"For  the  heart  of  man  would  grow  dismayed 

If  winter  storms  should  ever 
Be  robbing  the  earth  of  all  her  green, 
And  let  bare  branches  alone  be  seen." 

Then  far  on  the  hillside  bleak 

These  trees  made  pledge  together, — 
[42] 


That  notwithstanding  the  storms  and  cold 

Of  winter's  icy  weather, 
They  would  wave  their  green  over  field  and 

fen, 
For  the  beauty  of  earth  and  the  joy  of  men. 


[48] 


May's  Legacy. 

Oh,  April  was  a  sorry  child, 

And  wept  so  frequently, 
I  could  but  ask  her  what  the  cause 

Of  all  her  grief  might  be. 

"I've  buds  about  me  here/'  she  said, 

"Just  coming  into  bloom, 
And  giving  out  for  love  of  me 
A  delicate  perfume. 

"I've  waked  the  trees,  and  roused  the  grass, 

And  taught  all  things  to  grow; 
Unbound  the  brook  that  winter  froze, 
And  made  it  laughing  flow. 

"And  now  word  comes  that  I  must  leave, 

And  who  will  care  for  these? 
Oh,  who  will  make  my  buds  to  bloom, 
And  robe  my  waiting  trees?" 
[44] 


I  said,  "Sweet  May  will  do  all  this 
When  you  have  gone  away." 

Then  April  broke  into  a  smile, 
And  left  her  buds  to  May. 


[451 


Christmas  Hymn. 

He  has  come,  our  Saviour  Jesus; 

'Tis  His  birthday  we  proclaim. 
Hark,  oh  hark,  angelic  voices 

Sing  the  praises  of  His  name. 
He  has  come,  oh  wondrous  story, 

To  be  born  in  Bethlehem: 
Come  to  be  the  children's  Saviour, 

Come  to  live  and  die  for  them. 

He  has  come  from  scenes  of  glory, 

From  the  realms  of  endless  day, 
Where  the  angels  bow  adoring 

As  they  chant  the  heavenly  lay. 
He  has  come,  His  goodness  bringing 

From  yon  pure  and  holy  place 
Richest  blessings  to  the  children — 

Wondrous  love  and  matchless  grace. 
[46] 


He  has  come,  but  on  His  birthday 

Shall  He  gifts  of  mercy  bring, 
And  the  children  whom  He  blesses 

Offer  nothing  to  their  King? 
'Tis  His  birthday;  we  will  give  Him 

For  His  presents  hearts  of  love ; 
All  our  love  and  all  our  service 

Will  we  give  our  King  above. 


[47] 


A  Christmas  Carol 

All  ye  who  sit  at  meagre  boards, 

With  little  fare  on  Christmas  morn, 
Ye  have  a  cause  for  joy  of  heart, 
For  in  God's  bounties  ye  have  part 
If  ye  believe  in  Christ  the  Lord 
Who  was  today  a  Saviour  born. 

All  ye  who  sorrow  and  are  sad 

Because  of  death  on  Christmas  morn, 
Ye  have  a  cause  for  joy  of  heart, 
In  God's  re-unions  ye  have  part 
If  ye  believe  on  Christ  the  Lord 
Who  was  today  a  Saviour  born. 

All  ye  enriched  with  earthly  store, 

Who  joy  for  joy  on  Christmas  morn, 
Ye  should  have  added  joy  of  heart 
Since  in  God's  blessings  ye  have  part 
[48] 


If  ye  believe  in  Christ  the  Lord 
Who  was  today  a  Saviour  born. 

Not  all  are  rich,  not  all  are  poor, 

Not  all  have  sorrow  Christmas  morn; 
But  all  have  cause  for  joy  of  heart, 
For  in  God's  mercies  all  have  part 
Who  do  believe  that  Christ  the  Lord 
Was  for  their  sin  a  Saviour  born. 


[49] 


Didst  Thou  Consider? 

0  Lord,  when  Thou  didst  choose  my  path 

for  me, 

Didst  Thou  consider  all  the  care  and  strife 
That  would  surround  my  way — how  daily 

life 

Would  be  a  burden  with  perplexity? 
And  didst  Thou  know  by  nature  I  would  be 
A  timid  soul,  and  much  inclined  to  fear? 

0  Lord,  when  Thou  didst  set  my  portion 

here 
Did  all  these  homely  matters  come  to  Thee? 

"Yea,  ere  I  chose  the  limit  for  thy  feet 

1  thought  on  all  the  sorrow  and  the  strife, 
And  the  perplexities  of  daily  life ; 

1  pondered  well  the  troubles  thou  must  meet. 
And  then  I  said,  With  promise  of  My  power 
This  child  can  meet  such  things  at  any  hour." 

[50] 


The  Divine  Man. 

In  a  little  ship  at  night 

Gliding  o'er  the  sea, 
Christ  as  man  lay  down  and  slept, 

Worn  as  man  may  be. 

But  when  sudden  tempest  rose, 

Causing  wild  alarm, 
Christ  as  God  commanded  "Peace," 

And  the  sea  grew  calm. 

Christ  beside  the  silent  tomb 

Wept  as  man  doth  weep ; 
Then  as  only  God  can  do, 

Waked  the  dead  from  sleep. 

As  a  man,  a  man  condemned, 

Christ  in  sorrow  dies; 
Then  as  God  to  dying  thief 

Opens  Paradise. 
[51] 


At  His  Gates. 

God  of  the  greening  field  and  budding  tree, 
Who  doth  delight  in  making  earth  so  fair, 

Grant  in  my  soul  Thy  spring-like  touch  may 

be, 
Awakening  all  Thy  heavenly  beauties  there. 

God  of  luxuriant  growth  and  gladsome  days, 
When  Thou  to  plenty  hast  approval  set, 

Grant  that  my  soul,  enriched  by  Thee  always, 
May  know  whence  bounty  comes,  may  not 
forget. 

God  of  the  falling  leaf  and  fading  flower, 
Whose  garnered  grain  foretells  a  spring  to 

be, 
Grant  that  my  soul,  when  facing  death's  sad 

hour, 

May  trust  Thy  promise  for  eternity. 
[52] 


God  of  the  winter  storms,  fierce  winds  and 

sleet, 

When  desolations  sweep  across  my  soul, 
Grant  that  my  faith,  a-tremble  at  Thy  feet, 
May  catch  some  grander  view  of  Thy  con 
trol. 


[58] 


Grief  Conquered. 

I  will  forestall  the  grief  that  years  may  bring. 
Within  my  room  alone,  on  bended  knee, 
I  will  beseech  that  when  grief  comes  to  me 

God's  comforts  come  as  well  to  heal  the  sting. 

Come  joys  divine  when  earthly  joys  take  wing: 
And  when  my  loved  ones  die  to  me  be  given 
Some  clearer  evidence  of  God's  dear  heaven, 

Filling  my  soul  with  peace  and  comforting. 

So  grief  shall  find  me  armed,  and  as  a  foe 
Yields  to  a  warrior  stronger  far  than  he, 
Grief  shall  present  a  flag  of  truce  to  me, 

And  own  itself  my  vassal,  bending  low. 

While  I  the  victor  shall  have  gained  from  grief 

A  deeper  knowledge  of  divine  relief. 


[54] 


A  Monday  Prayer. 

Back  to  the  shop,  the  factory,  and  the  mill 
Thy  workers  go,  O  Lord;  and  it  may  be 
That  some  have  sorrows  pressing  heavily, 

And  some  are  burdened  with  foreboding  ill; 

And  some,  unmindful  of  Thy  holy  will, 
GaineoT  not  the  rest  provided  yesterday. 
And  into  sin  some  feet  have  gone  astray, 

And  some  hold  labor  in  derision  still. 

Grant,  therefore,  Lord,  that  as  we  buyers  go 
Through  factory  or  store  or  busy  street, 
With  thoughtful  words  these  laborers  we 

may  greet, — 

Mindful  of  grace  for  sin,  of  balm  for  woe: 
Helping  in  kindness  sluggard  souls  to  see 
The  worth  of  labor  and  the  dignity. 

[55] 


Hast  Thou  a  Sorrow? 

"Hast  thou  a  sorrow?"  said  the  tempter  bold, 

"It  shows  thy  Father  hath  forgotten  thee. 
Renounce  thy  faith,  thy  trust  in  Him  with- 

hold- 
Could  one  who  loves  afflict  so  grievously?" 

"Hast  thou  a  sorrow?"  faith  speaks  to  my  soul, 
"It  shows  thy  Father  seeks  thy  betterment; 
Ask  Him  to  so  direct  it  and  control, 

That  thou  shalt  gain  the  blessing  with  it 
sent." 


[56] 


That  Midnight  Friend. 

What  unpropitious  hour  for  suppliant  to 
wend 

His  way  through  silent  streets  to  find  a  mid 
night  friend. 

What  obstacles  to  face!    The  friend  he  seeks 

at  rest, 
His  own  improvidence,  and  that  unlooked-for 

guest. 

How  things  against  him  seem;  yet  need  doth 

urge  his  feet 
To  hasten  for  a  loan  of  bread  along  that  lonely 

street. 

What  glad  surprise,  what  cheer,  what  bounty 

lies  ahead! 
That  friend  awakes  and  doth  bestow  all  that  he 

needs  of  bread. 

[57] 


O  soul,  take  courage,  thou  no  hindrance 
worse  shalt  face 

Than  faced  this  man  when  he  set  out  to  im 
portune  for  grace. 

The  very  things  that  seemed  against  his  prayer 

to  be 

They  added  force  to  his  request,  and  value  to 
his  plea. 

Then  press  thy  need,  and  if  in  darkest  hour 

thou  wend 
Thy  way  to  Him  thou  wilt  indeed  find  Christ 

thy  Midnight  Friend. 

(Luke  11:5-8) 


[58] 


The  Tide. 

God's  ships  of  treasure  sail  upon  the  sea 
Of  boundless  love,  of  mercy  infinite; 

To  change  their  course,  retard  their  onward 

way 
Nor  wind  nor  wave  hath  might. 

Prayer  is  the  ti3e  for  which  those  vessels 
wait 

Ere  they  can  come  to  port;  and  if  it  be 
The  tide  is  low,  then  how  canst  thou  expect 

The  treasure  ships  to  see? 


[59] 


The  Banner-Bearer. 

From  bloody  field,  when  day's  long  fight  is 

done, 

And  bitter  strife  a  glorious  peace  hath  won, 
There  comes  a  soldier  at  the  set  of  sun. 

What  marks  of  conflict!    All  the  bright  array 
Wherewith  he  girt  himself  at  start  of  day 
Now  tattered  is,  and  telleth  of  the  fray. 

And  he  himself  is  weak  and  bruised  and  worn, 
Yet  in  his  hands,  that  cruel  shots  have  torn, 
The  banner  of  his  regiment  is  borne. 

So  do  I  think  that  I  shall  reach  the  throne, 
With  all  the  grace  of  early  deckings  gone, — 
The  armor  broken  that  might  else  have  shone. 

But  to  my  Captain  on  that  last  great  day, 
God  grant  that  it  may  be  my  joy  to  say— 
"Lord,  I  have  kept  the  faith  through  all  the 
fray." 

(2  Tim.  4:7) 

[60] 


If  I  Should  Write. 

If  I  should  simply  write  the  one  word  "God" 
To  those  who  in  the  Home*  lie  sick  and  sore; 
If  I  should  write  but  that  and  nothing  more, 

Yet  would  they  tell  through  all  the  rooms 
abroad 

What  a  sweet  letter,  what  a  cheering  word 
My  pen  had  written;  so  devout  are  they — 
Those  pilgrims  who  have  fallen  by  the  way, 

Yet  lie  with  gaze  turned  up  to  His  abode. 

But  when  I  add  "God  loves,"  with  joy  how 

great 

They  read  the  letter,  passing  it  along 
From  room  to  room  till  other  hearts  are 

strong 

With  confidence  in  Him  on  Whom  they  wait. 

[61] 


And  when  I  add  the  whole — "God  loveth 

you"- 

Their  hearts  rejoice  as  though  the  theme 
were  new. 

*  The  Philadelphia  Home  for  Incurables. 


[62] 


The  Place  Prepared. 

When  evening  falls,  and  by  the  mother  led 
The  little  child  reluctant  leaves  his  play, 
Not  downward  doth  he  take  his  sleepy  way, 

Nor  in  the  outer  darkness  find  his  bed. 

But  step  by  step  the  little  weary  feet 

Are  guided  upward  till  they  reach  the  room 
Whence  loving  thought  has  banished  all  the 
gloom, 

And  loving  care  hath  made  the  chamber  sweet. 

So  when  our  Father  calls  us  to  our  rest, 
It  is  not  downward  into  shades  of  night, 
But  upward,  step  by  step  toward  the  light; 
Until  at  last  our  faltering  feet  shall  come 
Into  that  upper  chamber  of  our  home, 
Where  is  a  "place  prepared"  for  us  and  blest. 

(John  14:2) 

[63] 


My  Garden  Must  Be  Beautiful. 

My  garden  must  be  beautiful; 

For  when  the  shadows  play 
In  lengthening  shapes  along  the  wall, 

And  comes  the  cool  of  day, 
Perchance  my  Lord  might  come  to  see 
The  place  where  roses  bloom  for  me. 

And  if  He  asked  to  come  within 

This  house  of  mine  to  rest, 
How  fair  and  sweet  the  rooms  should  be 

For  such  a  wondrous  Guest! 
'Twere  better  far  to  keep  them  so, 
Lest  He  might  come  before  I  know. 

And  if  He  stayed  for  friendly  speech 

As  fell  the  light  of  day, 
How  should  I  know  to  talk  with  Him, 

Or  holy  things  to  say, 
Unless  my  soul  acquainted  be 
With  some  of  heaven's  mystery? 
[64] 


The  Searcher. 

I  read  of  one  who  walked  among  the  cots 
Of  wounded  men  behind  the  battle-line, 

Seeking  "the  missing"  with  a  patient  quest — 
Plying  his  questions  with  a  grace  most 
fine. 

And  in  that  Red  Cross  ward  full  many  a  clue 
Among  the   wounded  of  "the   lost"   he 

found ; 

This  man  and  that  directing  how  to  search 
For  fallen  comrades  out  on  "No  Man's 
Ground." 

I  read,  and  thought;  the  vision  changed,  I 

saw 

Another  warfare,  waged  at  greater  cost; 
Another  Searcher,  asking  constantly — 
"What  of  thy  soul,  thy  comrade,  found? — 
or  lost?" 

[65] 


Achievement. 

His  great  desire  was  to  paint  most  true 
His  Master's  portrait;  fairer  far  than  he 
Had  seen  as  yet  portrayed,  with  majesty 

In  every  line  and  much  of  sweetness,  too. 

And  on  the  canvas  stretched  the  artist  drew 
The  outlined  Face, — no  more,  for  sud 
denly 
Canvas  and  brush  and  palette  had  to  be 

Put  by  for  needed  work  his  hands  must  do. 

So  wrought  the  years;  still  on  the  canvas 

stood 
Those    outlined    Features,    never    added 

touch; 

His  busy  hands  too  busy  were  for  such; 
Then  feebleness  laid  low,  and  death  ensued: 
And  by  his  couch  one  said  with  tender  grace, 
"I  never  looked  on  a  more  Christ-like  face." 

[A  tribute  to  my  father,  John  R.   Whitney.] 
[66] 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWEu 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


COAN 

NOV  13  1967 

.  •  •  " 

LD  2lA-60Tn-2,'67 
(H241slO)476B 

___  
General  Library 
University  of  California 
Berkeley 

Temple  , 

Arm 

953 
T284 

V 

The  k: 

eeling  came 

—  — 

M191915 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


